On the night of October 5th, 2013 while at Lee's creek in Stilwell Oklahoma I would have something happen thatI will never forget. After a very successful day at the MABRC Symposium I would return to the camp site for an evening of Squatching with friends. There was a great turn out of MABRC members and new found friends that showed up that evening. With much excitement plans were made and groups were formed for an evening of research. I had the pleasure of going with a couple from Texas that had come to the Symposium and wanted to join in on the festivities.We walked up to the Old Bus while others fanned out to different areas and some stayed in camp. It was an interesting evening at the Old Bus we played with some cool gadgets and just sat and talked and laughed. At one point I did a vocalization and got what seemed to be something banging on a piece of metal.We even got a short hit on the Heat Seeker as if something was watching us from behind two very large cedar trees. We walked out after a few hours and returned to camp to see if anyone else had action. After the group began to disburse and a few of us sat around the fire laughing and telling stories some began to retire for the evening. One was Ron Boles who had put his Cot/Tent on the little island just off from the rest. Later as the fire died down to just embers there was only me and one other sitting there. The fog had rolled in and you could not see more that 15 or 20 feet in front of you. I even noticed how I could not see Ron's Cot/Tent on the Island anymore. Then while just talking with the other guy we hear what sounded like something hitting the water. Splash !! Then I said to the other guy be quiet and you could hear whatever it was walking across the creek. We both were waiting for Ron Boles to come lumbering out of the fog as if to go and become one with nature. My way of saying take a pee of course.But to our dismay no Ron appeared in front of us. So we both decided to just call it a night and retreat to our sleeping quarters. I got into my Tent and prepared the bed and turned on my light. I have a small light I turn on inside the tent so I don't see shadows on the sides. Call me a chicken if you want it just gives me the willies to see a shadow pass by my tent. Anyway I lay down and begin to go over what has happened through out the day at the Symposium. When suddenly I hear a sound come from the end of my tent where I am situated. You see I had made some chili the first night and had left the big bean cans in a duffle bag Henry may had left there. Clunk! Clunk! I just knew it was an animal of some kind sniffing around in the bag. But then it walked past my tent and headed towards the other tents. Then I knew it was either someone in the camp or either a visitor on two legs that had just walked by my tent. There was a harmony of snoring that could be heard in the other tents and I knew I was the only one hearing this. Then to my dismay I hear in a whisper as if someone was trying to wake up someone else in the tent next to them. "Bobbie" "Bobbie" I thought to myself YES someone else is hearing this and I'm not Imagining things. I could hear what sounded like stuff being moved or pushed around at the end of the row of tents. Then it kinda got quiet except for the snoring in the tent next to mine. Then "Bobbie" Bobbie" again I was screaming to myself "Wake Up" dang it! The snoring hesitated for just a few seconds and I thought YES someone is awake and hear what I'm hearing. But then the cadence continues and I can hear whatever it is walking back across the creek. Well after unclenching my Buttocks cheeks and closing the knife I had I fell asleep. A few hours later I awoke and began to stir around but the first thing I wanted to know is WHO was Bobbie and why did they not wake up! But to my surprise the others in the camp stated that there was no one there named Bobbie. Then Scotty Plowman said unless it was DW's wife her name is Bobbie and he had been calling out her name earlier that evening. So what was it that jumped into the creek and walked over to the camp and looked through the bag of cans? Which by the way the bag had been opened but nothing was removed or scattered like an animal would have done. I was told that one time in that same area a Bigfoot had said the name Izzy when DW and his wife were there. Could this have been the same one from last time and was just repeating what it had heard DW say earlier that evening? Of course as a researcher you would of thought I would of had a recorder placed outside that night. But that's what happens when Fatigue sets in and you just don't bother. Good note maybe is that there was a recorder going by another researcher though. Just hope it captured something other than the snoring in three part harmony that night. So there you have it my story of an event that I like to call " The Camp Stalker" maybe there will be more to the story. Only time will tell...Thanks for having me and Squatch On !